Royal Pains
by SunshineAndSecrets
Summary: Volterra: In the upper Ring Nobility lead lavish lives, while in the Lower Ring commoners toil in a cesspool of crime and misery. Bella, unofficial Queen of the Shadows, keeps a fragile peace between them. When the Summer Gala brings far flung royalty together in one place, Bella is unwillingly dragged into a world she always loathed; One of plots, treachery, and regicide. BxA


**A/N: New story, here we go. My hope is for an action packed, long lasting project. Fingers crossed it works out, yeah? Enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

Volterra, the capital city of the Volturi Kingdom, was a city of opposites. The closer you got to the black marble castle at it's epicenter, the more lavish it grew. The streets were cobbled meticulously, flowers grew in every basket, doorways were gilded and ornately carved, proud horses pranced under wealthy men and women, servants and slaves ran here and there to attend their masters needs, and musicians played on street corners. There were no curs or dirty orphans mucking about in the upper ring, oh no. Soldiers and knights patrolled even the darkest alleys (attempting) to keep them free from crime. It was strictly no peasants allowed. Unfortunately, once you passed that fine line, the city dived into a ragged, foul cesspool.

Thievery, rape, and murder was a nightly occurrence. Husbands would beat their wives and sell their extra mouths into slavery for their drinking money, or gamble it away on dog fights and tavern brawls. Sickness raged in the hot months and rivers of waste and muck ran in the overflowing gutters. Emaciated animals roamed the streets in packs by night, preying on the drunken or deceased. A paltry city guard fought day in and day out to keep the city safe from crime, or at least save their own skins when they could not. Folk were poor, and there was no life to be made in the lower ring unless you were a murderer, a cheat, or a thief. Sometimes all three. Food was hard to come by, meat especially. Lower city children were raised on dog, cat, and rat. Bread was wormy, vegetables rotten, and medicine was practically non-existent unless someone with wealth took pity on you. Life was hard, and there was not a morning that did not produce fresh corpses in the gutters.

This was not to say it was anarchy, of course. In fact there was a strict chain of control, enforced by the principle of you followed that chain or you got your throat slit. There were the common vagabonds, the Mice, the lowest of the low. Street scum or orphan children. They worked under the Rats who had been at it longer, who had stolen enough to work up some respect or some fear. They paid their dues of course to the Weasels, who were sly and cunning and had amassed enough money to hire guards or runners of their own. The Weasels reported to the Captains who looked over the four districts of the lower ring, making sure nothing too drastic happened, and the Captains reported to me.

"Let's go, let's _go_!" I shouted out with a laugh, brandishing my short sword at the caravan leader's throat. "Move that grain boys, we ain't got all night!" Around me my men hooted and hollered, tossing sacks to one another and running off into the shadows. I knew some would go astray, some to feed their families and some as bribery and some as pure selfishness, but it was a calculated risk.

"Missus, we got us a chest 'ere! Can't pick it meself," one of my captains called out.

"Oy, Jake! Hold this for me!" I called to one of my other Captains and oldest friends. He slipped out from the shadows where he had been keeping watch for knights or guards and regarded me with an easy smile.

"Don' mind if I do!" He took the sword from my hand and level the caravaner with an even eye.

I loped over to the overturned wagon. The boys had dragged a hefty chest out from a hidden compartment below the floorboards. By the looks of their strain it was certainly heavy, possibly full of gold or loot that demanded a secure hiding place. "Alright you curs, check under the floorboards, bust 'em open! I smell a smuggler!" My men howled with glee and I heard the distinct splintering of wood. Looking around me in a quick glance I saw some Lower Ring folk had come out to watch us with grins on their faces and fire in their eyes. They knew I did my work for them. A glance at the Caravan Master's face showed utter desolation and I wondered if he had hoped to recover his hidden goods once we moved off.

"No such luck, my good man," I said with an easy grin and a shrug. He glared at me.

Giving my attention back to the chest I pulled out my own set of picks. I had fashioned them myself and they were never far from my side. I saw the mouth of the lock was nicked and scratched from where my Captains and fumbled with it. I cracked my knuckles and set in. Sooner rather than later I heard that distinctive pop and grinned, flinging the chest open. I whistled at the sight inside. It was all coins, mostly copper and silver but with flashes of gold here and there.

"We could buy a castle wi' all that!" I heard a man call out from over my shoulder.

"S'your head full o' muck?" Another responded to him. "That chest were heavy, but it weren't _that_ heavy! S'gotta false bottom, Missus?" He asked me, but I was already pulling it up.

"Aye, but I figure this is worth more 'n gold!" I smiled and saw satchels branded with the tell tale flame of Firestone. It was illegal for any kingdom to have, as enforced by the Mage Council. Having it labeled you as in cohorts with Mages unlicensed by the main faction, and liable to be tried by the Mage Court. In large quantities it was an explosive that left a poisonous gas in the air for years after, and in very small doses it was a narcotic and hallucinogen that had driven men mad, with the middle ground being a nearly undetectable and extremely deadly poison. What I was most excited about, however, was the number of scrolls situated next to them, each marked with a different colored wax seal.

"My oh my, what _do_ we 'ave here! A smuggler _and_ a spy? Why, Master Caravaner, I 'ave half a mind to give you a job! Boys, drag the nice gentleman back along wit' us, I think I'd like to have a lil chat wit' 'im." The men chuckled. I didn't necessarily need the man, just his contacts, and I doubted this was going to be a conversation he enjoyed. Or survived, for that matter.

Looking over the other wagons, it seemed they were just about empty so I put two fingers to my mouth and whistled. "Right then, _clear out!_" Like water, we melted from the scene, leaving only splinters and wagon wheels behind.

Me and two Weasels made our ways through the shadows, our worn leathers making not a sound. Anyone who did catch sight of us knew better than to act as if they had. My men, my work, was well known down here, as was the knowledge of what happened to anyone who squealed in the wrong ear. And I always had ways of finding out. We were nearly back when one of my runners found me. I spotted the small child crouched in the shadows, and approached slowly. I turned towards my men and, while looking one of them dead in the eye, asked the runner, "Have you news?"

"Sam says a new carriage jus' rolled in, flying a gold lion on a white field."

I dug around in my memory for what I knew of the nobility in surrounding holds and lands. "That'd be the King and his family from the Cullen Realm, then. Interesting. Tell Sam to put a tail on 'em until Aro let's 'em in." It was customary for our King to wait a day or two before allowing guests into his court, as a show of power, though no one said as much.

The child nodded and I moved off, thinking on that. My network of intelligence was fairly extensive, even in other Kingdoms. Other spies came from leagues around to barter knowledge with me, so I knew a fair bit about our latest visitors. They had come, undoubtedly, for Aro's Summer Gala. Every summer, for the week leading up to the Solstice the royal family hosted a massive festival in the upper ring. Nobility and other Royal families from other kingdoms attended so as not to give insult to the powerful house. And every year he beggared the lower classes in his own kingdom to do so. On the night of the Solstice there would be a grand and extravagant ball, and then it would be over and while the nobility would leave fat and happy, the number of deaths from starvation, murder, attempted robbery, and a number of other need-driven crimes will have shot sky high. And then it becomes _my_ problem. 'My husband was killed, and I can't feed his seven children!' 'My son needs a trade now, we need more coin just to get by! Take him on as a runner!' 'This lout stole my purse, I want justice done!' Yes, while Aro's court rejoiced mine would be in turmoil.

In my line of work, one of the first things you learn is that secrets are impossible to keep, and you might as well make them public and be proud of it. If they're dangerous secrets, like running a city's underground, spy network, black market, and even a guild of assassins, you needed the power to protect yourself. My court was held at one of the largest buildings in the lower ring, an old warehouse converted into tavern and living space. It was encased by a tall stone wall that was watched by rushers and guards at all hours of the day and night. Inside the wall was a small garden that was tended by whoever laid a claim to the ground, and harvested by whoever got to the produce first. Inside tall wooden double doors, it opened up to a great expanse of a room.

It was three levels up of balconies with tables and rooms, so that all present could look down at the raised table where I conducted my business and call out their two cents. If a brawl started up, they would toss coins down in good times as bets, and if someone made an ass of themselves they best be prepared to dodge food slop and ale. As always it was bustling and busy with my people, all those in my employ to keep the darkest most dangerous parts of the city up and running. Tonight it was even more so, as word of our raid had already filtered through the cracks and had flushed out all those who either wanted a piece of the prize or a piece of the excitement. People _needed_ victories like this so close to the Gala.

When they noticed I had come swaggering in a cheer rose up. "Nightwolf, Nightwolf!" They called out and, "Missus Bella! Missus Bella!" One being my street name and one being what I was called if I was on close terms with someone, and I hope you can guess which is which.

"We counted up 'em sacks 'o grain Missus," one of my Captains, Paul, said as he approached me through the crowd. "There's enough there to feed the whole South district 'til harvest, sure enough."

Over the cheers in the hall I called out, "Oy, where's Seth! I need a price check on Firestone!"

A small sandy haired boy a few years younger than myself wiggled his way to the front of the crowd. He may have been young, but he was one of the smartest people I had ever met. I swore he had a Gift for knowing money, how it came and went and when to sell, things like that. He was my Master of Coin, and him only fifteen. People had grumbled at first but when our profits overall had tripled, they stopped grumbling and started buying him mugs of ale.

"Our last bit sold out at a quarter gold K a satchel. I'd wager we could get a quarter of that more if we sold it up north. How much did you pull?"

I smiled, that was over three hundred gold pieces a satchel, more than enough to feed every district of the lower ring until harvest came around. "At least seven satchels, maybe more. Plus some scrolls." I hopped up on the table I worked off of and the people in my court grew quiet, attentive. I grinned. "Leah, Jake, Sam, Paul! Getcher asses up here!" I called out, waiting for my captains to come forward.

"Sam's still out setting up a watch o'er 'em Cullens," one of Sam's seconds, Jared, said. "I'll stand for 'im."

"Right, then. Jake! Get a hold of your merchants in Denali, tell them we've got somethin' for 'em. Paul, the South district was hit hardest by the Gala, take the grain we pulled and give it out 'mongst your people. Leah, I need all our coin counted up and figure out who we need to give what to, what we need to buy to survive the Gala this year. Jared, tell Sam that I need the roads watched for more caravans coming in, particularly grain ones. There might be more where this one came from. Right, who's taking what tonight for pickings?"

Jake called out first. "My rats are working between High East and Appleway."

"I've got Rim Side to Cobbles," Leah said.

"And mine are at South Gate to Brimview," Paul said.

"Sam's got us working Sunset Way to Copperman," Jared finished out.

Taking that in I nodded and said, "Right you lot! You heard 'em and you know the rules! Don't muck with their business, go make your own! I'll take grievances for an hour, then I'm working ledgers."

People melted from the room like water, slipping out of the many exits the building had, some even up and onto surrounding roofs. I considered my Captains as they talked to their people. Jake was the best thief in the city, he could practically steal the clothes off of someones back if he put his mind to it. Leah was our main go with the black market, and related to Seth, so together they kept us in the business of supply and demand. Paul was a master swordsman and archer, an ex-Knight from the Denali Kingdom, who had been exiled for war crimes. He had bouts of anger, but we put up with those for the fact that he was an extremely skilled assassin. And Sam, as expressed by his absence currently, handled intelligence jobs. He brought in intelligence for me from all over the world and always knew a place to put a guy, or knew a guy if I needed the place. And it was my job to put it all together, to keep us one step ahead of the game. I looked them all over and grinned. It had been a bit rocky at first, but now we all ran like a well oiled machine.

People began lining up in front of my desk and I snapped back to reality. Right, grievances. About twice a week I would hold an open court for people to petition to me if they wanted or needed something. Mostly I was settling disputes between marks, targets, victims, family members and the like, but sometimes people came to me with business offers or needing a job. The first few in line were mundane. A woman claimed her mother's broach had been stolen even though she had paid a tax for protection, as some people did to grant them amnesty from my people. I told her it was more likely she had lost it, but I'd ask around. One man said one of my rushers, a man named Quick Tin, had set his attack dogs on his fighting chickens. I scanned the crowd quickly, knowing it hadn't been too long since my eye had been on him. I saw him just as as he was trying to slink from an exit, leaped from my dais, and dragged him back to my table by the front of his tunic. I hoisted him in front of the crowd by the back of his neck as my court jeered.

I gave him a shake and asked, "Is this true?"

"No Nightwolf, I ain't never seen 'is poxy mouse afore!" A fine sweat had broken out on his forehead and upper lip. His hair was a dark, tangled, greasy mess and his face was unshaven. His brown tunic was stained and patched and smelled of sweat and smoke and dung. The apple of his throat bobbed.

I gave him another harder shake. The man was taller than me, and broader, but he knew better than to move against me or the seven knives I had concealed on my person. "I don't know if I believe that answer, try one more time!"

"N-no, missus!"

"Tha's him Missus Nightwolf, I saws 'im wiv me own eyes!" The chicken man called out. I looked to him and saw him now restrained by two of my other guards and assumed he had tried to rush up here himself.

"He says you set your dogs on his chickens, an' I know you've got fighting dogs. Your bitch just whelped not too long ago, yeah? Litter sired by Ron Don's champ, eh?"

Quick Tin paled. "Y-yes, Missus."

"Shame if something were to happen to 'em pups."

The man broke. "Fine, yeah, I set 'em on them damned chickens! They was squawkin' and hollerin' and Briney said he'd give me a silver to shut 'em up!"

I called out to the crowd, "And where's Briney!"

The man answered from the back. "I'm 'ere, Missus!" He pushed his way up to the front. "He says it true, I told 'im I'd pay 'im and I did!"

I looked back to Quick Tin and said, "Well, at least he did as he said he would, did as he was supposed to. _You_ destroyed another man's property for a damned silver, a man 'o this court."

"I-I'm sorry!" Quick Tin started shaking in my grip.

"Well, I think it's only fair that you took away his property, he's gonna take away some of yours. How many of your chickens did his dogs kill?"

"Four, Missus."

"Quick Tin, you'll give him four of your bitch's pups, his choice by this time tomorrow and be more considerate of your court brothers in the future, eh?" My grip tightened on the back of his neck and even though his face was turning from pallid with fear to purple with anger, he nodded. I dropped him. "Right then, that's settled. Who's ne-"

The double doors burst open and a voice cried out, "Nightwolf!"

The sudden sound was accompanied by he ringing of dozens of drawn blades. They lowered as soon as they were drawn though, when through the smoke came the form of a winded Sam. A jogged to my dais and bent over, hands on his knees.

"What is it Sam, what's happened?" I asked, worry flooding my gut.

"You have to come wit' me, Missus. The Cullens, they- they-"

"What did you hear Sam? Speak!" I said, walking up to him and pulling him up by the front of his shirt.

He shook his head. "Somewhere private, please, I cannot speak of it here."

I growled and dragged him back behind my raised table to my private room where I did ledgers and held meetings with my spies and foreigners seeking favors. There was a desk, several chairs, book cases and shelves, and many a stolen masterpiece adorning the walls along with silver backed oil lamps, all lit and flickering. Before I closed the door behind us I called out, "Find my Captains, get 'em back here!" Knowing the court would sort it out, I slammed the door shut then whirled on my other captain and waited.

He took in a deep gulping breath and said, "I believe they mean to kill King Aro and take his throne."

I froze, feeling as if my blood had turned to stone. Slowly I leaned back against my desk, crossed my arms over my chest, and retreated into my mind. Everything I knew of the Cullens poured forth. They held more land and arguably similar wealth to the Volturi, only they were known pacifists. They had not engaged in a war of any kind in over four hundred years, and retaliated only against border skirmishes to keep their people safe. That was another thing, in no other realm were the commoners given the same rights and privileges as the in the Cullen Kingdom. They gave only minimum tribute to the royal family, and were able to amass up enough wealth to even purchase lands. There had even been cases of common families being granted titles of nobility. Of course the nobles still amused the commoners as all did, but it was less severe, less tolerated. Their lands were fertile and much desired, and yet they had never been moved against in recent history.

"Are you certain?" I finally asked Sam.

He nodded gravely. "I myself heard them. I was crouched just on the balcony ledge of their rooms, and the window was opened. I heard the father himself say their spies would meet with them soon, and that their soldiers would begin infiltrating the city on the morrow, bit by bit." Sam was very literate, having been raised in a noble household, and as I often was I found myself grateful for it now. "They have connections within the city guard, in the castle, and among the commoners. I left soon after that but my men will be with them constantly, they'll never be unattended."

I ran a hand through my hair, my mind on fire. Was this even my business? I cared not one whit what the nobility and royalty did as long as they didn't interfere with my caring for my people. However, as it stood the Volturi's iron rule was one of the main reasons someone like me was even necessary. If the Cullens took over things would change, and right now I didn't know if that would make things better or worse. They were kinder rulers, but the Volturi kingdom would double their lands, this assault could start a larger war with other kingdoms as well. The Volturi were not without allies, and the commoners were always the ones on the front lines.

"Where do their armies stand, as of now?" I asked quietly.

Sam fished a small journal out of a hidden pocket in his tunic. He flipped through it quickly then said, "My last report on the Cullens had them with a small standing army, only two thousand, but with loyal alliances from over fourteen lords, which could bring their total forces up to almost thirty thousand. Their allies could bring forth another ten thousand. The Volturi's army stands at twenty seven thousand, possibly up to forty thousand depending on the generosity of their allies."

"So they're practically dead even," I said, worrying at my thumb nail.

"Give or take," Sam replied.

"How about their coin?"

"The Cullens collected and early summer harvest this year, with another set for autumn and have resources to spare. The Volturi have dried their lands up for this damn Gala."

At least that was a point in advantage for the Cullens. It made sense, really. If you were going to attack a nation, might as well attack an opulent, wasteful one.

I slammed my fist onto my desk and growled. "Dammit Sam, I need to know _why_ they are moving against the Volturi now after so many peaceful years. Do they just want the throne? Is there some hidden agenda? If this royal morons plunge the continent into war and I could have stopped it..."

"What do you plan to do?" Sam asked quietly.

I tapped my chin, brain churning through the possibilities. "Well, these Cullens clearly have no idea what they're doing. For gods' sakes, they left their windows open while speaking of matters that important! If they go on much longer this way, they'll be killed before they even begin. No, I want to see how this could play out, and that means keeping the game pieces alive for as long as possible. I'm going to meet with them."

Sam gasped. "Yourself?"

"Yes, myself," I snapped. "Not that I don't trust you Sam, but I need my own senses on this, it's too important. When the others get back, start our web. I want fresh intel on all the Cullen's allies, I need to know what they're planning. Tell Paul to pull in his assassins from the field, we might need them too."

Sam stilled. "Do you plan on assisting the Cullens, then?"

I frowned over that, then answered as truthfully as I could. "I don't know. Only, unless there's been some kind of misunderstanding, it seems that by the end of next week one throne or the other will have fallen. I plan to be on the winning side." With that, I slipped my hand into a crack between wood slats in the wall. I pushed against a hidden wooden switch and two panels opened up to admit entrance to a hidden tunnel. "I'll be back before sunrise," I told Sam, then slipped out.

…

I spent some time of my own on that balcony, listening through the same window. I saw Sam's men in the shadows as well and nodded to them. We were on the edge of the upper ring, and the city around me was clean and pristine and mildly sickening. My mind was still running like a race horse, but I couldn't let myself get overly distracted and had to focus myself back in often. From what I could tell, the room held five people, and the surrounding rooms on all sides held the members of their household that they had brought with them. Inside the King and Queen sat near each other, and three others sat farther away, but they were all engaged in conversation.

"Lord Emmett with arrive tomorrow with your sister, Lord Jasper," a man a dubbed the King said. "Hopefully it will not be long before we are admitted to the Castle."

A man scoffed. "Oh yes, my sweet sister so loves common accommodations." This was responded to with general laughter.

"I would hardly call this common," another man spoke. His voice was more muted. "If only compared to the slum we came through to get here."

A woman this time, closer to my perch and likely the Queen, responded. "It's just dreadful that Aro allows his people to exist in such conditions."

"Mother, please," a girl broke in, her voice high pitched and sweet sounding. "You mustn't speak so."

"Alice, we've only just arrived. Aro couldn't possibly have his men on us yet," the King replied.

I took this as my cue to move. In one graceful motion I vaulted through the open window and landed with a roll, popping up quickly and sliding a hand to my waist where a short sword rested in it's hilt. With cries of shock the rooms occupants sprang up and away from me. I heard the distinct ring of three swords being pulled form their sheathes. One man roared and lunged at me, a tall blond, and I side stepped deftly, spinning away as he breezed past me. Another young man, bronze haired this time, lunged as well. I ducked under his sword arm, grabbed hold as he passed over me, and threw him towards his blond counterpart. They collided with two distinct 'oof's and before they could disentangle himself I spoke.

"I'm not here to harm you, fools! Trust me, you're doing plenty of that yourselves without my help!"

They all froze and I spoke more before they could come to their senses. My voice was low and as persuasive as I could make it. "Look, I know who you are, where you come from, even the names of those in your household. I also know you plan to overthrow the Volturi, despite being peaceful for the past five centuries. I _also_ know if your keep carrying on in the way you have, you will be dead before the festival even begins."

The man I assumed to be the king opened his mouth to speak, anger flaring in his eyes, but I overrode him.

"I am not one of Aro's people! I hold a very... _odd_ position in this city, and I believe I we need to talk."

"You come in here brandishing a sword at my family and expect us to treat you with courtesy?" The King practically roared.

The younger blond man growled out, "Filthy street wench, how dare you speak to us in this way! The offense you've given is worthy of execution, you are in the presence of royalty!"

My temper flared. My respect for noble blood had somewhat waned in the years I've spent watching them abuse those below them. Couple that with enough power to stand against them and you found yourself with a fair bit of impudence. I swept into a low bow, so low it was certainly mocking. Technically, as a female it should have been a curtsey but I wore no skirts, and I hoped that would infuriate the man further. As I came up to see his purple face, I knew it had worked.

"My apologies, Lord Jasper of Hale. Please forgive this common street wench for overstepping herself in the presence of such lordly lording lords as yourself! My, how cheeky of me to worry over the sheer idiocy of plotting a war with the _windows_ _open_! How dare I question whether or not war would spring up between between two nations when one plots regicide with a single damn assassin in their employ! It's not as if Aro has secret military bases scattered throughout his lands and could marshal a five thousand man force to march against your two thousand man standing army before you could make it back to your own castle. Certainly not as if he had an extensive spy network within your own household. And myself, being a filthy street wench, would certainly know none of this. So yes, my apologies, Lordly Lord Jasper."

Silence.

Finally, "Who are you?" came from the Queen.

I looked around the room and took them all in. The king, Carlisle, wore elegant red silk and velvet robes with intricate gold and silver embroideries. His hair was golden flax and his eyes were a similar shade. My eyes went next to the prince, Edward. His copper hair matched the Queen, and he had her green eyes as well but his build matched the King's. Both were dressed just as finely as the King was. The last two were easy to identify as well. The only other female was very short, slight of frame, and had raven locks and bright blue eyes. She was only a year younger than the prince's twenty years and one year older than myself. Her looks matched neither King Carlisle nor Queen Esme and while rumors had circulated about the Queen's infidelity, I knew Alice to be their true child, only carrying traits from grandparents commoners no longer remembered. She was married to Lord Jasper Whitlock, a high ranking lord in the Cullen Kingdom, general of their army, and warden of the Southlands. His sister, Rosealie of Hale was engaged to Jasper's second in command, head of the city Guard, Lord Emmett McCarthy.

I sighed and scratched at the back of my head. Before I could answer the bronze haired prince spoke. "I have my suspicions."

I looked up at him and quirked a brow. "Don't tell me you actually looked into the kingdom you planned to invade? That would be sheer madness."

Anger flashed in his eyes, but his tone was level when he responded. "You are the Nightwolf," he said simply.

I bowed once more. "In the flesh. Very astute of you, Prince Edward."

Lord Jasper frowned. "The Shadow Queen," he mumbled, bringing up another of my many back alley titles.

"I am honored, the Lordly Lord Jasper has heard of me!"

Lord Jasper growled but his wife, Princess Alice, giggled. "Well _I_ haven't heard of you, Lady Nightwolf," she said, sounding much more pleasant than the men had.

I smiled at her, taking note of her kind demeanor. I had heard stories of the Princesses benevolence, how beloved she was by her people. When she had come of age many men had sent her expensive jewelry and other gifts in the hopes of courting her, but she had in turn sold it all to pay for food for the commoners to help them through a bad harvest.

"You, Princess Alice, I am _actually_ honored to meet. Your work for you people is quite respectable." I gave her a true bow and pulled a thin chain from a pouch in my belt. It was a large opal, glimmering a half dozen different colors in the flickering light of their room. The stone was wrapped in thin silver wire, woven to resemble vines and leaves with the opal at it's heart. "A gift, to thank you for keeping the commoners in mind."

She seemed flustered, but accepted the stone with graciousness.

"To answer your question, I am the head of this city's underground. I have an extensive trade and intelligence network, as well as offering other... choice services. I'm sure you saw the state of the Lower Ring when your passed through the city gates."

By now I addressed the entire group, and each of them nodded.

"Aro is too arrogant to spare you any attention until it suits him as a display of power, but I am not so naïve. I have had eyes on you since you arrived because you are still in the Lower Ring, and that part of the city belongs to me."

"You steal from the rich and give to the poor. How quaint," Lord Jasper mused with derision.

"Better than stealing from the poor and giving to the rich," I replied quickly, locking my gaze onto his. I stared until his gaze flicked away, then switched my own gaze to the King and Queen. "I need to know, before you do this, do you _truly_ mean to overthrow and take the Volturi throne?"

Silence once more, until the Prince spoke. "We cannot trust you, you know."

"Then you will have to kill me," I said bluntly.

**A/N: So that was a pretty busy intro, huh? What'd you think, do you like the characterization of it all? Any suggestions, thoughts, comments, concerns? Let me know, reviews are beloved treasures and PMs are always welcome!**

**-Sun**

******EDIT: Damn, some of you can sure get nasty! D: I had this story up for a whole of six hours before I got my first flame of some jerkweed cursing me out for not working on my other stories. Dear cowardly anon who apparently has a lot to say but won't dare show their username: MY MUSE IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! If my stories are such a disappointment to you, go read someone else's and leave me alone! I'll write what I want to write, when I want to write it! Thank you very much.  
**

******Also, anyone here a fan of HUNTER? A sequel is in the making, it will be called 'Goddess.' That is all! (:  
**


End file.
